


Morning Breath

by Stoeipoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Failed attempts at smut, Fluff, M/M, Trans Character, hints of polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3816931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stoeipoes/pseuds/Stoeipoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor returns with a batch of people from Adamant Fortress. Too exhausted for words after facing the Fear and Nightmare demon in the Fade, followed by several weeks of traveling back to Skyhold, not a lot of celebration happens when they return. Teir makes an attempt in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Breath

Beneath warm, stiff sheets they’d managed to share lazy kisses before Teir had fallen asleep against Cullen’s front, flat nose burying into a pronounced collar bone and the commander couldn’t even tell until several kisses to the forehead later, eyelids drooped shut and limbs heavy around the small man between them.

It felt like a century until he woke up, so exhausted he couldn’t even form nightmares. When he roused, the sun was high in the sky, itching the backs of his eyelids in a room somewhat foreign to him as he’d only ever shared his own sleeping quarters and Dorian’s with Teir, with the elf being more comfortable in… less lavish regions. Teir was still buried into his chest, a disappointed hum spilling from his throat as Cullen shifted position ever so slightly. Stiff fabric to his chest caused him to eye south, sigh escaping him when realization dawned that both of them had been too tired to untie the laces of the other man’s binder.

_Shouldn’t even be fighting with that thing on_ , he’d heard insistence from Dorian, evidently having picked it up from someone Teir’d reckoned he had an eye on.

Calloused fingers brushed up along dark skin and Teir shifted, drew himself in tighter to Cullen with an unenthusiastic growl. Cullen sought out the knot and gently freed the laces from their position under the man’s arm, pulling them free eyelet at a time. The allowance of space on his ribcage allowed Teir to finally breath in deeply, but the shifts to his side had left eyelashes fluttering. The elf tipped back his head for more breathing room as he inhaled deeply, and all he could smell was dried sweat, blood, sword polish, the sweet Ferelden stench he’d grown to adore from nestling into Cullen when the both of them were friends, spending tipsy evenings spilling stories of their families.

A deep, appreciative rumble sounded in Teir’s throat. Cullen chuckled in return. He took it for an appreciation for finally having enough space to breath, but didn’t expect lips seeking out and brushing his neck, followed shortly by teeth ghosting along the skin.

Teir’s fingers wandered. They stroked along the thin fabric of the tunic Cullen’d neglected to discard, sought south to find the edge as Teir skiddled his way up. Impish tongue teased the rough scruff along his chin before finally a soft, lingering kiss could be placed to Cullen’s lips. Sleep-riddled as he was, the blonde took his time in responding, finally puckering his lips to return the gesture. Morning breath was a decent enough price to pay, in the gentle heat of the room, the warmth of blanket and body, soft full lips and fingers that had finally found the globes of his ass, pulled him in closer.

When lips parted and a deft tongue ghosted his bottom lip, the former templar readily leaned in to accept it’s requested access. A brief suckle before his mouth pressed in against those of the elf, own slightly dried tongue meeting the foreign organ. Sleepy as he was, he couldn’t miss the thin leg slid over his thigh, or wide hips pressing forwards til his belly was met with delicate skin.

“It’s early,” Cullen breathed against thick lips, and eyelids brushed open to let brown eyes search for brilliant green. He couldn’t find them. Teir’s eyes were shut, and he could feel the man’s hot breath ghost over his own parted lips, refraining shortly from breathing through his nose as the elf seemed to contemplate his next move.

He felt Teir’s hips roll to shift on his side first, and Cullen followed the movement, laying on his back as the short elf moved up to straddle his belly. Long, black hair was a tangled mess, and with the binder partially undone, it hung awkwardly on his shoulders, blankets pooling around skinny legs. Still, the others’ eyes wouldn’t meet his’, focussing on Cullen’s collar bone, barely visible under thick lashes.

“I thought I was going to die,” finally came Teir’s gravelly voice, slender fingers brushing along Cullen’s fabric-covered chest.

“We all thought that.” Warm, was the smile that crossed over Cullen’s lips. Because he hadn’t died. It was remarkable that so many of them managed to make it out of the Fade alive, but Teir had done it. Again.

Red tried it’s hardest to break the surface of dark skin that covered the elf’s cheeks. Long ears drew back along his scalp. Cullen - his beautiful, human soulmate Cullen - resting under him, breath rank, skin warm, large body between his thighs, pulse thrumming beneath his fingertips and yet Teir still wanted to be closer. Suckling his bottom lip between his teeth, the elf squeezed his thighs tighter around his lovers’ sides, and when warm fingers trailed up along their flesh, he couldn’t surpress an eager quiver.

The former templar moved to grab for blankets, but Teir pressed palms flat to his chest, pinning him back to the mattress. Arching over him, Teir’s lips briefly met his lovers’ scar, blunt teeth trying to capture and force their mouths to meet, but the elf withdrew too swiftly. Wide hips rolled forwards, slowly, as the smaller man rubbed his nether region into abs that were growing soft from over-nourishment thanks to an Inquisitor who refused to waste.

“Mmh.” Cullen’s tone was complaintive. “I was hoping for a kiss.” A cheeky half-smile spread out. 

The blonde rose his fingers higher, settled them on broad hips. He could feel his own upper lip quiver when they rolled back, felt the others’ sex grind into him just under the hem of his crawled up tunic. A weighted silence carried between them as Teir rolled forwards again, and he could see the peep of a tongue caught between teeth, the quiver of closing eyelids as the elfs’ most sensitive region ground against warm skin. Where before he thought it might’ve been a shift for comfort, there wasn’t much doubt - his lover was using the flesh of his stomach to please himself with.

The quiet chuckles that coursed through his stomach made Teir yelp. Rather sensitive, that one.

“ _Teir_ ,” Cullen murmured once the shake of his belly receided. “Just because we have a closed roof over our heads doesn’t mean we have to-” He cut himself short. With a vague shrug and a half-grin on his lips, he tried to avoid the obvious.

Green eyes became visible again when, despite the hazed state of Teir’s mind, they tried to focus on Cullen. He opened his mouth swiftly to utter a complaint - he definitely didn’t have to, he wanted to - but released a chortle instead, features relaxing considerably.

Cullen. He was the one.

Arching himself over the warrior beneath him, Teir’s lips sought out others again, and he propped himself up with his elbows resting on either side of Cullen’s head.

“We don’t have to.”


End file.
